


if i be waspish, best beware my sting

by hotknifer



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Banter, Ben shows up to steal her thunder, Competitive, Cursed Academia, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, I miss Yr 12, I'm gonna say yes, Rey is an overachiever, arguments about frankenstein, basically a rom com, because I'm sick of trying to understand America, but British, does this count as revision for my a levels, dramaaaaaa, not that it matters as a modern au, rey kenobi bc I say so, teenage bullshit, they're lit students, they're living the life I wish I lived, you love to see it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotknifer/pseuds/hotknifer
Summary: The guy sat opposite her - an external, she didn't recognise him - rolled his eyes. She wondered what his problem was, all leaned back in chair with blazer slung over shoulder, dark hair byronic level of messy, an air of boredom and a sense of eliteness that pervaded the space he occupied. His eyes met hers then, a split second of disdain, no introduction given. It took her all of three seconds to realise he'd be a problem. And it only took him opening his mouth for her to decide that she hated him.***a high school rival lit students au
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	if i be waspish, best beware my sting

**Author's Note:**

> Aka the high school au I've always wanted to write but I cba to learn the american schooling system so welcome to england folks xx

The first day back at school was always the worst. Having spent her GCSE summer getting smashed in fields with Rose, spending an objectively shitty but nonetheless fun weekend in Weston-super-Mare with Finn, blackmailing Poe into finally asking Finn out, and being forced into work by her Uncle, Rey Kenobi met the new school year with a degree of hesitancy and loss for the golden summer which felt over as soon as it had started. Though that feeling of teenage angst was short-lived the second she walked into school five minutes later than planned in the vaguely dress-code appropriate outfit she'd spent a week planning in her head, ready to make this academic year her bitch. 

No more PE. No more Biology. And no more stupid lectures from the geography teachers that she should be trying harder because not liking their subject was no excuse. She'd spent a good deal of her summer preparing for her A-levels, wider reading until she could read no more, taking notes on her set texts so she would be prepared. 

She had a game plan. It was the same plan she'd had since year 7, the one that hadn't changed because there was no need to, to smash her A-levels out the park, head to Oxbridge (she hadn't yet decided which) with three A*s, study the shit out of some Literature, and graduate with a first. Then, do a masters. Then, a PhD. And then, depending on what suited her, she would either become a professor or a famous journalist of some sort. Then, she'd be happy, having made something of her life when it felt like she'd been told she couldn't from birth. 

As she jogged up the stairs of the humanities building, taking them two at a time and regretting heeled shoes for how much her feet already killed, she envisaged how her first lesson would go: Skywalker, standing in front of the board, smiling as his favourite student walked in. Her, taking a seat next to one of the external students, becoming their friend and showing them the ropes. Their first discussion, her surprising everyone with her passion and drive for the subject. And if she kept that up, Skywalker offering to tutor her for Oxbridge. Though she recognised it was a little concerning how much of her self esteem relied on approval from English teachers, academia had always been her strong suit. It wasn't like it was harmful to have high expectations of herself. 

"Rey," Skywalker nodded as she walked in, not smiling as much as she'd anticipated, but she chalked that down to it being 9am on the first day back. 

"Good morning, sir," She said cheerfully, looking around for a spare seat (of which there were many, considering the small class size) and taking one near the front. "How was your summer?" 

"Fine, fine." Skywalker dismissed, writing the date and title of work on the board. "You're bright for a Monday." 

"Excited to be in my favourite classroom, sir," She grinned, getting out her lined paper and set texts, laying them neatly in front of her. 

A hint of a smile broke through his grumpy facade. "I wouldn't let your other teachers hear that." 

"I read that book you told me to over the summer." She took it out of her bag and handed it back to him, the copy he'd let her borrow and she'd kept pristine (pretty sure she returned it in better condition than it was given to her). He put it inside the drawer of his desk with a nod. "It was interesting, particularly the depiction of postmodern ideals of masculinity when considered in the context of world war—" She knew she was going too far so reigned herself in, back to her usually slightly more chilled tone. As much as she wanted to be on his good side, she didn't want her classmates thinking she was a swot. "Sorry, carried away." 

"Never apologise for being passionate about literature, Rey." He said in his usual, wise way, pulling a chair up to the end of the long row of tables he'd set up for their group. Something about the idea of being part of this elite club of his, as over dramatic a way to describe their class was, made her feel more stoked for the year than before. He set off their discussion, first impressions of the novel, and left Rey to talk her way through her thoughts.

The guy sat opposite her - an external, she didn't recognise him - rolled his eyes. She wondered what his problem was, all leaned back in chair with blazer slung over shoulder, dark hair byronic level of messy, an air of boredom and a sense of eliteness that pervaded the space he occupied. His eyes met hers then, a split second of disdain, no introduction given. It took her all of three seconds to realise he'd be a problem. And it only took him opening his mouth for her to decide that she hated him. 

"Basically, what I'm saying is that Victor Frankenstein is an unsympathetic character and though I agree with feminist readings that his whininess and ineptitude could be a representation of Shelleys own position as a woman during the Victorian Era, I also think that the majority of his character arc is him making a mistake, refusing to do anything about it, then complaining for two hundred pages about how his life sucks," she shrugged."He's clearly based on Byron, he throws himself onto a chaise multiple times for goodness sake. It's a psychological exploration of the constraints of traditional masculinity." 

"I don't think that's correct." The external student, the one with the bad attitude, met her gaze, eyes boring into hers. "In fact, I think that's an incredibly naive reading of the text." 

She faltered for a second, a short laugh escaping her at the bluntness of his comment. "Excuse me?" She looked to Skywalker for an expected reprimand, and when none came, her silence was all he needed to continue.

"It's not about being a man who refuses to admit his mistakes and complains about it. It's clearly about the dangers of science going too far, and Frankenstein's hubris is representative of all of humanity. We push the ethical and moral boundaries of science in the name of progress, and eventually we will reach the point where it's an unstoppable force that we'll be unable to come back from. It's not about a singular man's choice, it's about what it means to be human in times of change." He continued, raising an eyebrow as though he couldn't believe the shallowness of her reading. "You did read the text, didn't you? It sounds like you just read the sparknotes." 

"Ben." Skywalker said in a warning tone. 

"I—" She looked at him incredulously. There was probably nothing more insulting he could have said than accusing her of not researching her point. "I've read it multiple times, thank you." 

"Then you'd agree that I'm correct." 

"There's no right or wrong, the whole point of literature is that it's subjective." She said frostily. 

"However there are authorial intentions which must be recognised, and based on the context of the matter - Erasmus Darwin, Galvanism - clearly it is a response to the conflict between Romanticism and Enlightenment. The education of the creature is Romantic, Victor's attitude towards nature is Romantic, and Shelley's marriage to Percy Bysse Shelley and friendship with Lord Byron reflects this." He monologued, and she wondered how long she could bear his monotonous shit-talk about her interpretation before she snapped. 

"That's all well and good, but you haven't given any evidence to counter my interpretation, just supported your own." 

"I think anyone would agree that there's no need, but if you'd like me to tear into it I'd be more than welcome." He said almost boredly, looking a round at the rest of the class as though he was tired of talking to her already. 

"Yes, I would like you to." She replied stubbornly. 

"Give me textual evidence and then I'll take your point seriously. Until then, this debate is pointless and won't result in anything worthwhile."

She must have looked at him with enough murder in her eyes to concern Skywalker, who stepped in to diffuse the situation. "Thank you, Ben, for that insight. You make valid points. Does anyone else have any thoughts on the matter?" 

He looked at her smugly then, eyes that clearly said 'I won'. Her urge to throw a pencil at him increased tenfold. There was no way she could allow anyone else to be Skywalker's favourite, not this year or the next, not when her future depended on it. So she gave him a look back that said 'prick' and opened her notepad, dutifully taking notes as Skywalker lectured them from the front of the classroom, book in his hand as if he was giving a soliloquy to Yorick's skull. 

* * *

"I just don't understand what his problem is." She complained through gritted teeth as she threw her bad down at her feet, taking the seat directly next to Rose. "It's the first lesson. The first lesson! I don't even know the guy and he sits there all holier-than-thou like he's the world's leading Frankenstein scholar or something—" 

"Rey, keep your voice down please," Her tutor glanced up from the register on his laptop to give her a scathing look. 

She mumbled a weak apology and turned back to Rose, continuing in a furious whisper. "Before tearing apart my point in front of everyone, making me look like an idiot, somehow becoming one of Skywalker's new favourites because of it, and /god/ his fucking smirk."

"Hey to you too, babe." Rose raised an eyebrow, looking up from the stack of papers in front of her. "Yes, I had a great summer, thanks for asking."

"Sorry, I just, ugh. That was the most petty thing I've experienced. Why are men like this, can't handle someone else having their own opinion," At Rose's look she stopped the tirade. "There's this new guy, Ben, in English. He's a prick." 

"Hmm, I gathered that from how pressed you are," Rose offered her a stick of gum under the table which she took. "Oh, guess what," 

"What?"

"There's this cute guy in Biology. Might ask him if he wants to do some anatomical revision," she winked. "If you catch my drift." 

"Rose!" She laughed, scandalised. "That's an awful pickup line, fuck no." 

Rose just laughed too and flicked through the papers in front of her. "Anyway, I really could do with revision, look at this. A whole exam paper as homework on the first day." She scribbled some notes down above a long answer with a sigh. "Absolute joke. After all the transition work as well." 

"Tell me about it, English has already given us an exam outline for the year along with revision guidelines which they _will_ be checking. I've gotta watch this documentary on Mary Shelley tonight." 

"I'd happily trade." She sighed. "But anyway, tell me about this Ben guy." 

She gave a description of him, Byronicness and all. "And he's infuriating, and I can't stand him." 

Rose teased "Sounds like you've met your match." 

She pulled a face. They were the opposite of a match.

* * *

It was like Ben had a personal grudge against her, and for what she had no idea. Every subsequent English lesson was much the same: Skywalker would ask a question, her hand would shoot up, she'd give her answer, Ben would the raise his hand and lazily describe everything incorrect with the statements she'd just made. It was reaching the point where she started to dread it on her timetable, would wake up and heave a heavy sigh whenever she woke up in the morning and saw it was part of her day.

It must be exhausting, she thought, to be such a prick for no discernable reason. And it was infuriating seeing him slowly become Skywalker's favourite.

"Being unafraid of debate is the most important aspect of critical analysis," He told them all once Ben had given an infuriatingly perfect counter on the symbolism of the tree struck by lightning. "Thank you, Ben. Commendation."

Skywalker never gave out headteacher's commendations, except to her. And seeing him give one to Ben made her more aggravated about the whole thing than she cared to admit. Because really it was stupid to get so pressed about having someone challenging her at her level. It wasn't like they couldn't both do well. But when Skywalker asked Ben to stay behind at the end of the lesson and handed him a book to borrow, talking about his future at Oxbridge, she couldn't help a small bubble of panic. Her plan was off the rails. She hadn't equated for anyone else taking up Skywalker's time, anyone else wanting to pursue the subject at university. Everyone else in the class was doing it for fun, paired with sciences or history. It was supposed to be an easy path of support.

"Why," she whispered to Ben across the table while everyone was in the middle of writing analytical paragraphs to be handed in and graded for the next lesson. "Are you so determined to be a prick and undermine me everytime I make a point?"

"Sounds like someone's insecure," He said loftily, not looking up from what he was writing, and that infuriated her because it was true.

"I—" She scowled when she couldn't find the right words to rebuke him. "It's unnecessary." 

"People are allowed to disagree with you, Rey." He rolled his eyes. "Not everyone has the same opinion as you, you realise that?" 

Fired up, she whispered harshly back. "You don't disagree with anyone else though, you specifically target me."

"You're the only one who speaks, don't flatter yourself into thinking I spend my life obsessed with your little comments." He scoffed, punctuating his last sentence with more force than necessary and then getting up to hand it in. 

That stung, considering a lot of her life was spent maybe obsessing over his. She watched as Skywalker gave a small smile, took the paragraph, and immediately marked it, ignoring all the others on his pile. So maybe she was jealous. But he was still being a dick about it.

So much of her plan of befriending an external. It seemed like she was destined to hate him instead.

She finished her work a few agonising minutes later, handed it in, spirits lifted a bit again as Skywalker stopped marking someone else's work to do hers, as he had for Ben. At least he hadn't overtaken her as the best. Not yet, anyway. 

* * *

"Your problem is that you're too competitive babe," Rose said over a paper cup of coffee as they strolled back to school at the end of their lunch break, leaving site a privilege they'd taken advantage of near everyday. "Who cares if this Ben guy is better than you?"

Her expression must have given away her thoughts because Rose quickly changed tack. "Not that he's actually better than you, but like, you can't be the top of the class all the time. There's gonna be texts you're better at and texts you're not. Besides, it's only the start of the year, you need to chill out."

"Yeah..." She sighed, knowing that everything Rose said was true but not wanting to admit it. She didn't play sports or do anything like that out of school, academia was the one thing she did do competitively. "I heard Ben talking to him about Oxbridge though."

"So?" Rose raised her eyebrows, nudging Rey with her free arm. "Who gives a fuck?"

"He's said in the past that he only tutors one Oxbridge student. Too much work otherwise,"

"Oh sod off, that's a load of shit if I've ever head it," Rose scoffed. "There's no way he's only going to help one of you. That's ridiculous."

She sighed and kicked some gravel in her path. The three week into term feeling was getting to her already, it felt like a lifetime since they'd started and a lifetime until break. "Yeah, well, you say that but Jess Pava two years above got snubbed by him because he was already working with someone else."

"Wasn't Jess the one who decided on early applicant last minute though? Day before kind of last minute?"

Rey sighed heavily. "I don't know, Rose, I just don't want Ben to fuck up my chances. I need Skywalker to like me or I'm screwed, helping more than one student or not." 

"So when you have your first essay, write one better than Ben." Rose shrugged, like it was obvious. 

"I was going to try and do that already." 

Rose took her empty cup from her and ditched it in the recycling bin outside one of the houses on the side of the pavement. "Then you've got a plan and you'll be fine, babe. Oh, if you want his books to go mysteriously missing before a lesson so Skywalker goes off on him like he did to me at GCSE, let me know," 

She laughed, walked through the school gates and to the fingerprint scanner to sign back in. "You know what, I'll bear that in mind." 

* * *

The fourth week. Another lesson where she was grouped with Ben for theme analysis. Another lesson where they came close to ripping each others heads off. It was routine. 

There has to be more than this, Rey thought as they bickered incessantly over whether or not Victor was gay for Walton, there has to be a way for us to stop arguing every lesson, a way that we won't both grimace when we see each other in the library or exchange awkward nods when other people are around. 

"Fine." He threw his hands up in the air. "Fine, write it down." At her shocked expression: "Go on. You're right. Can we move on now?" 

"I— yes." Bewildered that he had relented for once, she wrote her point down next to his on their sheet of A3. 

Something was off. There was tension in his shoulders he didn't usually have. She felt a little bad for going off on him earlier about the colour highlighters he'd used for the titles and subtitles, considering it meant fuck all to their grade. Though, he had managed to make the entire class agree that his point about nature was the superior one. So maybe she didn't feel so bad. 

He muttered something under his breath about how much of annoyance she was and for once she didn't have the energy to argue. 

* * *

"Maybe you judged him too quickly, you know." Rose commented as the wind picked up again, blowing hair in halos round faces. 

She considered that, every fact and every interaction she'd had with Ben Solo that month, until deciding "No, I don't think so. Letting me have one point or not he's still a dick."

Rose gave her a knowing grin. "He's cute though."

"Rose, no." She replied, exasperated. 

"Obviously not as cute as the guy in Bio, but, if it came to it..." she teased.

"If you two did anything I'd actually lose my mind," She lay back on the grass, looking up at the stars above, half shrouded by clouds.

Rose's hand found hers and they interlaced fingers, comfortably. The gin-inspired tipsiness warmed her, made everything feel soft and fuzzy round the edges. 

"Good thing we won't. I'm not stealing your man," Rose lay next to her, almost knocking her drink over in the process. "Aw, shit,"

"He's not my man, Rose." She reminded her flatly, a conversation they'd had at least three times already that evening. 

"He's so gonna be your Mr Darcy."

"No."

"Your Rochester." She nudged Rey, grinning. 

"No way." 

"Your Petruchio."

She scrunched her nose. "Ew, no, have you read Taming of the Shrew? Abusive."

"You need more gin," Rose giggled, passing her the clear plastic water bottle she'd brought it in. "Then you'll see."

"See that you're drunk as fuck and making stuff up, yeah," She laughed and sat up to down it, grimacing at the taste. "Holy shit, that tastes awful."

Rose tugged her back down to the grass. "It's toffee apple flavoured."

She pulled a face. "That is _not_ toffee apple."

"And you _don't_ have a crush on Ben." Rose giggled, cutting her off when she went to protest again. "Shh, let me dream we have love lives."

As Rey looked back up at the sky with her best friend by her side, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about Ben and his stupid hair, his stupid smirk, his stupid voice whenever he tried to argue her point, and the stupid spark of triumph she felt whenever she proved him wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to me trying out a new writing style ooh spicy  
> this is the result of noone responding to my texts for two hours  
> hope u enjoy so far!!! would love if u commented or bookmarked or kudosed (that's not a word is it) if u did  
> \- brie xx


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